


Point of Reflexivity

by sebfish



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Alternate Universe - TiMER Fusion, F/M, Pittsburgh Penguins, Sibling Incest, Soulmate-Identifying Timers, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-15
Updated: 2018-05-15
Packaged: 2019-05-07 02:25:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14661408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sebfish/pseuds/sebfish
Summary: Sidney jumps at the loud beep from his own wrist, echoing the one from Taylor’s, and turns his wrist over to stare at his own timer.00:00:00 it reads, now, solid and steady and unchanging.





	Point of Reflexivity

**Author's Note:**

  * For [theladyscribe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/theladyscribe/gifts).



> So I saw the prompts and knew exactly what I wanted to write, I hope this is something like what you were hoping for. 
> 
> Disclaimer: this is a fictional representation of the people mentioned and no harm is meant.

Sidney’s timer is blank when they put it in, staying stubbornly blank even after the point when it’s supposed to switch on. The tech frowns and prods at it, then plugs a tiny wire into the side and plugs the other end into something like a small handheld computer. She presses a few buttons and frowns again at whatever’s on the screen, then unplugs it.

“All the diagnostics are coming up normal,” she says, “we can run more thorough tests if you’d like, but it seems to be working exactly how it’s supposed to be. The most likely explanation is that you’ve got a soul mate who doesn’t have a timer yet, which is not unusual and more likely the younger you are.”

“Oh,” Sidney says, “so it’ll activate when they get a timer?” It’s not news to him, exactly, because there are a couple of guys on the team who have blank ones, but it’s good to have the confirmation.

“Yes,” the tech says, smiling kindly. His mom makes a _hmm_ noise next to him, but she’d already said that this was his big day and she’d let him do it by himself. He was old enough to get drafted by the fucking Pittsburgh Penguins, but that didn’t mean he didn’t want his mom along for moral support, even though he could’ve technically done it himself.

Maybe he should’ve waited a few more years to get his, but everyone he knows has been getting theirs and he didn’t want another reason to stand out. He’s already had to watch Jack showing off his timer to everyone after he got it for the past few months, a few years on it until he meets whoever he’s supposed to meet.

It’s not like it’s surprising that his timer is blank, but it’s disappointing. There’s a chance that he’ll never get a number, then, if his soul mate decides not to get a timer or worse, if they aren’t around to get one.

 

 

 

Taylor waits until the summer after she turns eighteen because she wants Sid to go with her to the clinic, until after the Penguins get knocked out of the playoffs in the second round and he’s had a few weeks to settle into being home. She was busy with the end of school and graduating, anyway.

He agrees to go, of course, because he’s always happy to have the chance to be her big brother since he’s gone most of the year. She didn’t go with when he got his timer because she was too young, but she wants him along now because he’s always been the most important person in her life, even beyond their parents.

It’s her big day so she gets to sit shotgun in the car, their mom driving because it was a big day and she wouldn’t miss it and Sid grinning at her from the back seat. She’s a little bit nervous, of course, but Sid’s been doing his best to distract her and he’s pretty good at it.

The clinic is a tiny office in a strip of stores, unobtrusive and the sort of thing you’d pass over if you didn’t know what it was.

“You ready?” Sid asks gently from the back seat. Taylor shakes out of her reverie and realizes that the car has stopped in the parking lot in front of the clinic.

“We can always reschedule,” her mom says, messing around with something on her phone.

“No,” she says, and unbuckles her seatbelt. “I’m ready.”

The clinic is empty other than a receptionist, and it’s only a few minutes before someone comes out from the back to lead her to a room.

It’s not exactly fun, because the pinch when they put it in still kind of hurts even with the numbing cream, but timers are pretty small so it’s not a big deal. It’ll be worth it, anyway, and she’s excited enough that she doesn’t really mind.

She holds her breath while the tech activates the timer.

 

 

 

Sidney jumps at the loud beep from his own wrist, echoing the one from Taylor’s, and turns his wrist over to stare at his own timer.

_00:00:00_ it reads, now, solid and steady and unchanging _._

“Oh,” he exhales shakily, looking up to meet Taylor’s eyes. She looks a little bit uncertain but smiles anyway.

The tech busies himself cleaning up, and doesn’t say anything. Sidney doesn’t dare look at their mom, because he’s not sure what she’s going to say and he’s not sure he wants to know, yet.

It’s not like siblings can’t be soul mates, even if it’s not exactly common, but it’s not the normal thing and he doesn’t know what people will say but he already knows that it won’t be good.

Soul mates are supposed to be the person you’ll spend the rest of your life with, the person you’ll marry and have kids with, the kind of person you’ll end up buried next to one day. Sometimes soul mates don’t work out or people don’t have them, but there’s never a question that that’s what they’re for.

He breathes in deeply and lets it slowly out.

Taylor’s wrist sits steadily at _00:00:00_.

 

 

 

Maybe things would be different if her brother wasn’t Sidney-fucking-Crosby, if he was the normal kind of brother who was there all the time and annoyed her with stupid shit and treated her like a kid.

He’s never been like that though, always careful and kind with her when she was young enough that he was home most of the time, all of her earliest memories filled up with him teaching her how to skate and shoot a puck and watching him play.

Now he’s the kind of brother who has people asking for his autograph and already won a Stanley Cup, the kind of brother who paid for her to go to hockey school because he knows she loves it more than anything even if she’s not as effortlessly good at it as he is.

She knows how people get about Sid, how many people probably have posters of him on their walls, how many girls would love to be in her position. She’s got good friends from school who let her be Taylor Crosby, goalie, and not just Sid’s younger sister, but there’s still always somebody who can’t help but ask _what’s it like to be Sidney Crosby’s sister_?

_The same as being anybody else’s sister_ , she wants to say, even if that’s not entirely true.

 

 

 

Sidney isn’t required to tell the team who his soul mate is, thank fuck, but he knows somebody’s going to notice the fact that his wrist isn’t blank any more.

He swallows down the lump in his throat and calls Mario the next day, figuring he’ll head it off at the pass.

“ _Hey Sid,_ ” Mario says, thin and tinny through the phone. There’s noise in the background that sounds like Alexa and Austin arguing, and he feels suddenly homesick even though he’s home now.

“Hey,” Sidney says, feeling the knot in his stomach untie a little. It’s Mario, and he’s always been on Sidney’s side.

“ _Not that I don’t like to hear from you, but what’s up?_ ” There’s a noise in the background and then it’s suddenly quieter.

Sidney clears his throat. “I found my soul mate.”

“ _Oh, congratulations!_ ” Mario says, voice warm over the phone. “ _Anyone I know?_ ”

“Um,” Sidney says, hesitating, and Mario laughs.

“ _It’s fine, Sid, I’m sure I’ll meet her eventually. So what else have you been up to?_ ”

Sidney lets out a breath and launches into a story about training, feeling himself relax as Mario hmms at the right places in the story. There’s no guarantee for how Mario might react if he found out who Sidney’s soul mate is, but it’s enough to settle him for now.  

 

 

 

There’s a weird sort of hush around the house for a few days after Taylor gets her timer, and it’s almost settled by the time Taylor’s wrist goes from achy to itchy as it heals. She can’t stop looking at it, feeling unexpectedly giddy at the sight of the zeros even as Sid’s been creeping around looking alternately peevish and guilty.

It’s not because of her, or at least it’s not her fault, but their mom and dad have been weird around Sid and she can tell it’s been grating on him. It’s not like it’s his fault, like inviting her to go with him to the NHL awards was enough to cause it or like he’d planned it, but there’s still a weird tenseness between Sid and their parents that wasn’t there before.

It’s not like things aren’t awkward between her parents and Taylor as well, but she gets out of it after a strained conversation with her mom that boils down to _please don’t have sex with your brother_ and feels lucky that it wasn’t worse.  It’s still sitting at the top of the most awkward conversations she’s ever had with her mom, but not as bad as it could’ve been.

She tiptoes into his room late one night after their parents have gone to bed but before the strip of light shining from the bottom of his door disappears. The door creaks slightly when she pushes it open and Sid looks up from where he’s propped up in bed, reading an honest-to-god actual book because he’s like that.

He smiles at her, a small but real smile and that’s all the encouragement she needs to quietly close the door behind her and tiptoe over to the bed. She folds herself down on the end of it, crisscrossing her legs, and gives Sid a wry smile in return.

“I wish they’d give you a break,” she says.

“They’re just worried about you,” Sid says diplomatically, and Taylor rolls her eyes.

“Still,” Taylor says, “it takes two people to be soul mates, eh?”

“I guess so,” Sid says, and huffs out a sigh.

Taylor presses her fingers into the comforter, thinking, and the silence stretches on long enough that she looks up to find Sid watching her, an unreadable expression on his face.

“Would that be so bad?” she asks finally, quieter than she means to.

Sid frowns and turns unexpectedly pink. “Taylor,” he says, “that’s not, you’re my _sister_.”

“Well, yeah,” Taylor says, scooting in a little closer. “And you’re my soul mate.”

She’s not actually planning on trying anything but the way he’s staring at her is gratifying, so she swoops in to press a kiss to his cheek before he can say anything.

“Something to think about,” she says, and jumps off the bed and escapes before he can say anything.

 

 

 

He takes the excuse that he’s been home long enough to escape to his own house, grateful for the peace and quiet even if it’s a mixed blessing that Taylor isn’t there.

It’s quiet when he works out in the morning on an off day from training, getting lost in his thoughts as he settles into the rhythm of running on the treadmill.

She’s the same Taylor she’s always been, the same kid sister he’s watched grow up in bits and pieces, whatever pieces of her life he got when he wasn’t busy with hockey. Maybe things would’ve been different if they’d had more time together growing up, if he hadn’t been out the door right as she was old enough to stop being just a kid.

They’ve always been close, as much as they could, but it’s been mostly the last few years when they’ve started becoming friends instead.

Soul mates isn’t such a stretch, even though he pushes the thought away as soon as it happens, even if there’s no proof that soul mates _have_ to be romantic even if it’s the kind of thing that everyone assumes.

It’s just.

She’s _Taylor_ , and even though soul mates isn’t something he would’ve expected, it’s hard to get the thought out of his head. Hard to think about what it would mean if they were normal people, if they were the kind of people who could go on dates.

What it would mean if he could kiss her, maybe, the sense memory of her lips on his cheek. He doesn’t let himself think any further, because there’s lines he refuses to cross, but maybe.

Nobody knows exactly how soul mates work, just that people have had them for as long as there have been people and timers are just the latest and easiest way to find them. It doesn’t mean anything and it means everything and he doesn’t know what to do with it.

He bumps up the treadmill’s speed and keeps running, pushing himself until it’s all he can focus on.

 

 

 

Sid isn’t avoiding her, exactly, but he’s not been coming home at all and keeps saying that he’s busy with training.

It’s true, maybe, but it’s also the summer and he makes his own schedule, so she lets herself into his house early one afternoon when she knows he’ll be home.

He’s in the kitchen, in sweats and a t shirt and wet hair like he just got home from training, busy building a sandwich.

“Hey Sid,” she says, and he looks up and smiles at her.

“Hey Taylor,” he says, nonchalantly like nothing is wrong, focusing back on his food, “want a sandwich?”

Taylor shrugs and goes to dig in his freezer for the ice cream she stashed the last time she was here. “I’m good,” she says, fishing in the silverware drawer for a spoon. She takes it to the breakfast bar and digs in.  

“Okay,” Sid says amiably, and cuts the sandwich neatly in half. He puts it on a plate and brings it over to sit next to her, and it could almost be normal if it weren’t for the careful space he’s left between them.

She catches him up to speed with the goings on at home while he eats his sandwich and washes it down with a protein shake, listens to his stories about training and what he’s been up to.

She puts the ice cream away while he’s cleaning up his sandwich stuff, goes to put her spoon in the dishwasher. She closes the dishwasher and turns around to find Sid leaning against the counter, watching her.

“So,” he starts, then stops to clear his throat. “Soul mates, eh?”

“Yeah,” she says, feeling nervous all of a sudden even though it’s Sid. “Did you think about it?”

He shrugs, not quite looking at her. She steps forward a little, feeling brave.

“Maybe,” he hedges. “You know people aren’t going to be okay with it.”

“So?” she says, and steps forward again. He hasn’t moved, but he’s looking at her again. “We’re still soul mates.”

“Yeah,” he says, and lets out a breath like he’s decided something.

He steps forward and he’s in her space, suddenly, close enough that she can feel the warmth radiating off him and smell the clean scent of his soap.

“Only if you’re sure,” he says urgently. She nods and then his hand is on her face pulling her into him and his lips crash onto hers, soft and warm and more than she’d ever expected.

She makes a noise against him and kisses back, gets her hands up on his chest. He tastes like protein shake and it should be disgusting but it’s not, and it’s not her first kiss but it feels like it should be.

They break apart, finally, and she’s breathing hard and it’s the easiest thing to pull him back in for another kiss.

 

 

 

Kissing Taylor is stupid and impulsive and everything he shouldn’t be doing but he doesn’t regret any of it. She’s warm under his hands and she tastes like the ice cream she’d been eating and it’s everything he never knew he wanted.

He pulls away from her finally because one of them has to be responsible and she looks so good like this, flushed and a little dazed.

“That wasn’t your first kiss, was it?” The thought hits him like ice water, but she’s already shaking her head and it’s more of a relief than he would’ve thought.

“No,” she says, “it wasn’t yours, was it?”

“No,” he says, and can’t help but run his fingers along the side of her face, careful.

She presses her face into his hand, smiling softly, and he wants to kiss her again but he stops himself.

“We’ll have to be careful,” he says, because it’s a stupid idea even if they’re soul mates but he can’t seem to help himself.

“Okay,” Taylor says, rolling her eyes and pulling him back down into a kiss, and it’s easier to just let himself sink into it instead.

 

 

 

They don’t do much after that because Sid is still skittish and even if they were normal soul mates he’d want to take it slow, but they spend a few hours cuddled up on the sofa and Taylor goes home that night feeling warm and it’s good enough for now.

The timer on her wrist still reads _00:00:00_ and she’s never been so glad for it. 

 


End file.
